


Cauldrons & Wands

by Romance_My_Chemical



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Black Hermione Granger, Everyone Is Alive, Everyone Is Gay, Everyone Needs A Hug, F/F, F/M, Good Draco Malfoy, Harry is a Good Friend, Harry is a Little Shit, Hermione Granger is a Good Friend, M/M, Ron Weasley is a Good Friend, Trans Character, Trans Female Character, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:47:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28207068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Romance_My_Chemical/pseuds/Romance_My_Chemical
Summary: Hᴀʀʀʏ Pᴏᴛᴛᴇʀ ʜᴀꜱ ʀᴇᴄᴇɴᴛʟʏ ɢʀᴀᴅᴜᴀᴛᴇᴅ ғʀᴏᴍ Hᴏɢᴡᴀʀᴛꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡꜱ ᴇxᴀᴄᴛʟʏ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʜᴇ ᴡᴀɴᴛꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜɪꜱ ʟɪғᴇ. Hᴏᴡᴇᴠᴇʀ, ᴀʟʟ ᴏғ ʜɪꜱ ғʀɪᴇɴᴅꜱ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ɪᴛ'ꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇꜱᴛ ᴅᴇᴄɪꜱɪᴏɴ. I ᴍᴇᴀɴ, Hᴀʀʀʏ Pᴏᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴡᴀɴᴛɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴀ ᴘʀᴏғᴇꜱꜱᴏʀ ɪɴꜱᴛᴇᴀᴅ ᴏғ ᴀɴ ᴀᴜʀᴏʀ? Wʜᴏ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ? Hᴀʀʀʏ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ.Tʜᴇ ᴘʀᴏʙʟᴇᴍ ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʙᴏᴛʜ ᴊᴏʙꜱ--DADA ᴘʀᴏғᴇꜱꜱᴏʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀᴜʀᴏʀ--ʀᴇϙᴜɪʀᴇ ᴀ ғᴏᴜʀ ʏᴇᴀʀ ᴘᴏᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴀᴘᴘʀᴇɴᴛɪᴄᴇꜱʜɪᴘ. Aɴᴅ ɪᴛ ꜱᴏ ʜᴀᴘᴘᴇɴꜱ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴘᴏᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀ ꜱᴛɪʟʟ ᴀʟɪᴠᴇ ᴀғᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀʀ ɪꜱ ᴏɴᴇ Sᴇᴠᴇʀᴜꜱ Sɴᴀᴘᴇ.Wʜᴏ ᴋɴᴏᴡꜱ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴛʏᴘᴇ ᴏғ ʜʏᴊɪɴᴋꜱ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴏᴄᴄᴜʀ ᴅᴜʀɪɴɢ ᴛʜɪꜱ ғᴏᴜʀ ʏᴇᴀʀ ᴘᴇʀɪᴏᴅ?
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Harry Potter & Severus Snape, Hermione Granger & Harry Potter & Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger/Pansy Parkinson, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, Viktor Krum/Ron Weasley
Kudos: 4





	1. The Playlist

:𝙾𝚌𝚎𝚊𝚗 𝙴𝚢𝚎𝚜 ~ 𝙱𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚎 𝙴𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚑:.

.:𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚕𝚢 ~ 𝙱𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚎 𝙴𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚑:.

.:𝚂𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚆𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 ~ 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙽𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚍:.

.:𝙾𝚙𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚊 ~ 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙻𝚞𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚛𝚜:.

.:𝚃𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚋𝚕𝚎 ~ 𝙲𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙴𝚕𝚎𝚙𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚝:.

.:𝙸𝚛𝚒𝚜 ~ 𝚂𝚕𝚎𝚎𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚂𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚜:.

.:𝙻𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚃𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚜 ~ 𝙾𝚏 𝙼𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙼𝚎𝚗:.

.:𝙶𝚒𝚛𝚕 𝙲𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚑 ~ 𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚂𝚝𝚢𝚕𝚎𝚜:.

.:𝚒 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚋𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚐𝚒𝚛𝚕𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍 ~ 𝚐𝚒𝚛𝚕 𝚒𝚗 𝚛𝚎𝚍:.

.:𝙼𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝙼𝚒𝚗𝚎 ~ 𝙿𝚞𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚌:.

.:𝙳𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚕 𝚃𝚘𝚠𝚗 ~ 𝙲𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚝𝚘𝚠𝚗:.

.:𝚆𝚊𝚒𝚝 𝙰 𝙼𝚒𝚗𝚞𝚝𝚎! ~ 𝚆𝙸𝙻𝙻𝙾𝚆:.

.:𝙲𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚑 ~ 𝚃𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚊 𝚅𝚒𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚝:.

.:𝙼𝚛. 𝙱𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 ~ 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙺𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚛𝚜:.


	2. The Shope

~~🕯~~

𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚜 𝚊 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔 𝚋𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚑𝚊𝚒𝚛 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜. He's not wearing his glasses -- not that he needs them much anymore, thanks to the eyesight correcting potions that they had managed to perfect -- so the hair actually manages to be in his eyes. 

He glances at the ingredients lying on the table, then at the book lying in his lap, then at the bright yellow liquid sitting inside the large cauldron on the small table. 

The book says that the potion is supposed to be purple. 

Groaning, Harry grabs the vile of lion's blood, adding three drops before stirring clockwise three times, no more, no less. 

He watches closely as the potion changes slowly with each turn, to a blue. He huffs, grabbing the root of dewberry, adding two shavings, then one of the berries itself. 

The potion finally changed to the correct colour -- at which Harry sighs then looks at the next step. The book says to add fifteen scales of a horntail dragon, but Harry knows fifteen is too much, so, instead, he adds six. Correct to his assumptions, the potion turns to a bright red, then a deep green. He stirs it once, then takes it off the heat, putting it under a stasis spell before heading to the ingredients cabinet to grab some empty viles.

Putting most of the potion into the viles, leaving the rest in the cauldron, Harry stores the viles safely in a cushioned box, setting the box on the counter near the door after putting stasis spell and spells that prevent breaking on the viles. 

The rest of the potion will go in salve bottles, so he has to add some star-snake venom and stir is one and a half times to get it the right consistency and make sure it will thicken up right. He does so, then Harry scoops it out of the large cauldron, splitting it equally into six small salve bottles, where he puts them into a crate that has at least twenty times as many bottles. 

Sighing once more, Harry carries the crate out of the open door, closing it behind him, and into a large room full of shelves, which are covered in bottles and vials and pots. 

He sits the crate on the floor in front of empty space on the shelves by the door, before unloading the bottles onto the shelve. It takes him longer than he would like, but unfortunately, the glass brand they use is made to where magic can't be used on it. Fortunately, however, they are unbreakable. 

Once he's done, he takes the crate and places it behind a counter, then walks to the door, unlocks it, and flips the sign that hangs there. 

Light shines through the windows of the shop, showing just how long it took him to get the salve right. 

His regulars will definitely be complaining. 

No longer than seconds after the thought embedded itself in his head, the bell above the door sounds, alerting Harry of a customer. 

Putting a smile on his face, Harry turns toward the customer, of which he's never seen in his shop before, and let his voice ring out into the busy morning of the ally just on the other side of the glass that made up the window of his shop. 

"Good morning! Welcome to Lily's Apothecary! How can I help you today?" 

The shop had been named after his mother -- obviously -- and it was agreed upon after an entire three hours of brainstorming. Severus had been the one to suggest it. Harry had only agreed when Severus let him name the potions business itself after his father -- a name the man is sure to change once Harry actually goes to work at Hogwarts. 

It hadn't taken him too long to convince him -- his father did come from a long line of potion makers and inventors. 

Obviously startled, the unknown person turns around quickly, giving Harry a very good view of the very handsome man. 

He has pale -- almost white -- skin, which Harry can only tell because it's visible at the collar of his shirt, as well as his face and arms. His hands are covered in black dragonhide gloves, Chinese Wyvren if he isn't mistaken. He has on a cream-coloured sweater vest over a black long sleeve, of which the sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, which reveal a multitude of magical tattoos, mostly made up of constellations. A straight pair of black slacks adorn his long legs, resting neatly over white dragonhide boots; a pair Harry owns himself. 

Besides the tattoos, the only thing unusual about the man is the punk style white-blonde hair with purple streaks throughout the length of the hair. Not completely unusual for the Wizarding World, but relatively unexpected due to the aristocratic features of the man. 

The features he recognizes, but can't seem to place to any of the people he's met. 

The only person that comes to mind is one Draco Malfoy, but the man had been said to have left Britain years ago for America. He hasn't been one to be able to place a face. Hermione and Ron poke fun at him all the time for not recognizing their classmates. He's twenty-one, it shouldn't be this hard. 

Harry feels his face heat up as he realized he was staring at the man, then cleared his throat. 

"Sir?" He asks, watching as the startled expression melts away from the man's face and is replaced with a stoic mask. 

"Yes. Hello, Mr Potter. I was wondering if you carried sleeping draught at this shop? I hear your potions are the best, apart from Severus Snape's own, and as he works here as well, well, you can only see where I am going with this," the man stated, walking slowly toward the counter. 

Harry's surprised at the familiarity which the voice holds in itself, but no matter how hard he tries, he cannot remember where he's heard it from. 

He nods quickly. "Yes, of course! We carry three different kinds," Harry starts as he walks around the counter separating the two to fetch the potions as he talked. "The first we carry, the one we have to stock up on most, is the dreamless sleep, it is the least expensive, and it has less in it and only can be used once. 

"The second is a salve instead of a potion and can be used up to one month, depending on the age of the user. It is just a calming draught that makes the user sleepy and is commonly used for anxiety. It is not specifically made for sleeping, but it does cause sleep, so it is labelled as such.

"Now, the third is the most expensive and is used as a sedative. It causes instantaneous sleep and is used by the medical witches and witches in the area, including St. Mungos. We make it specifically for them, as we make the strongest, and know how to mix it with calming draught to make it weaker, but still a sedative.

"If what you require is not any of these, we, meaning Severus and me, could make you a special order, but you will be charged by the ingredient, instead of by the amount." 

Harry finishes speaking just as he stops in front of the man, who is significantly taller than himself. 

The man seems to be thinking for a moment before he nods. 

"I think I'll need a special one made," he starts turning his attention to some beautiful bottles.

They're empty and purely for decoration. Though, they do sell potions in special bottles for an extra price. Potions have to be placed in specific material bottles depending on the ingredients used. 

Harry tracks his movement with his eyes, making sure he doesn't touch anything he isn't supposed to. There are spells for that, but some people have proven to be able to get through the barrier, and Harry can't afford to get a specialist from Gringotts. Severus says it's Harry's shop, so he should be the one to buy it. 

He doesn't know why he doesn't just quit while he's ahead. Maybe he can get a job at some tattoo shop. 

"I have a sleeping disorder -- one that doesn't allow me to sleep for hours at a time -- and I tried to take muggle melatonin and Insomnia medicines. However, I've found that I happen to be allergic to the muggle chemicals that they put in those medicines." 

The man goes to pick up one of the magical bath bombs -- Harry's invention that he hadn't been able to make without Fred and George. The two sell their own line of them at their joke shop, and the money that each shop makes off of them gets split between the two companies. 

They're actually quite fascinating. Once placed in water, they explode like real bombs, but depending on the colour, they explode differently. The green ones blow glitter everywhere while the black ones teleport you and the red ones turn your skin different colours. 

He fingers the blue one, which happens to be Harry's favourite. It makes the water turn solid and then expands throughout the room. They had almost run into a lawsuit, but some quick thinking from their lawyer got them out of it. It's not their fault the person decided to swallow it instead of banishing it. 

"That shouldn't be a problem, sir," Harry replies. "We have a recipe that should work that does not contain any chemicals that could cause a similar reaction. If you would eke me draw that up, you can review it and see if it's to your liking." 

Harry smiles at him again and then moves toward the door that leads to the potions' room. There aren't any potions in there, just recipes and ingredients, but Severus calls it the potions' room because he calls the actual potions' room the 'Harry Potter Explosives Range' because of an unfortunate accident where Harry had put Yew Wood instead of Wood Of A Yewwing. 

The difference is hard to tell, but they cause completely different reactions. Especially when combined with Canter Blood (not to be confused with Candor's Blood, which is the blood of a truthful person, whereas Canter blood is the blood of any small bird -- made up? Yes. Important to distinguish between? Absolutely.)

Harry goes to the left, where potions a through p sit in muggle filing cabinets. Severus had wanted to sort them magically, with extension charms in simple wooden boxes, but Harry had complaints that he would never be able to find them that way, considering Severus' knack for being untidy. 

Sleeping draughts are put under calming draughts because that's what they're classified as (via the Magical Board of Potion Makers ((as if there's a muggle board of potion makers))) since they're used as calming draughts instead of actual sleeping ones. Though Harry would never use an actual calming draught to make him sleep. They taste particularly foul. 

He thinks it's because of the crocodile heart, but Severus had firmly reminded him the taste is the magical components mixing and that the original tastes and magical components become mute once the others are added in, as well when you stir then or use spells on them. 

"Besides," he had said, "the peppermint is there for the smell, so should also mute the taste." 

Harry smiles to himself at the memory. 

Humming, he runs his fingers over the tabs, searching for the recipe. He would use magic, but unfortunately, magic becomes kind of useless on things that have potion ingredients regularly spilt on them. 

He pulls the one he was looking for out. 

It's a simple potion -- the first one he had ever come up with on his own -- with just enough ingredients to be classified as a third-year potion with simple enough ingredients to be able to be made by a second year. 

However, it's a hard to get potion because of how addicting it can be, and the recipe itself is under protections so anyone who reads it can't copy the recipe down somewhere else, and once you make it, you completely forget about it -- unless you're Harry or Severus, of course.

Fortunately, it's also very easy to stop being addicted, on account of Hermione passing a law that there had to be a fallback for the kind of thing. 

So Harry had worked on one, and two weeks later, there was a reversal potion. And Harry was on track to becoming a potion master, having created two of his own potions that had been approved by the Ministry, St. Mungo's, and Severus himself. 

He quickly walks back into the main room, clearing his throat and alerting the man of his arrival. 

The man had been looking at the table of self-care salves. A line of face washes and hair treatments that makes him a pretty penny during the summer when all the little teen girls could buy them with their allowances. 

That's why he's working on a branch in Hogsmeade. 

The man spins around and struts over to the counter. 

"I trust this has been tested and proven healthy?" He asks. Smart move. 

He puts on his best customer service smile. 

"Yes, sir," he begins. "But, I must warn you that these can become highly addictive. We do have a potion that cures the addiction, but I have to warn you before we can make it for you. You also have to sign an agreement form saying that you let yourself be given the potion that's not unlike the goblins' legal forms." 

The man nods along with his words, seemingly considering them. 

"You will also have to take a blood to be sure that you don't carry a gene that could make you susceptible to addiction. Because the addiction is to a certain ingredient, you will not be able to remember the ingredients to this potion once you're done reading them. Do you agree to these terms?" 

The man looks at him. Harry doesn't feel completely comfortable under his gaze, but customers are always weird. 

"I do," he says simply. 

Harry's smile becomes real after those words. 

"Great!" He pulls open a drawer and brings out a folder of forms and then a muggle pen -- enchanted to be magically binding to the contract and the people signing, of course. 

He takes care of making sure the right lines are highlighted or crossed out before sliding the forms across the counter. 

"If you'll just sign here, here, here, and here. If you feel more comfortable reading through before you completely sign, you can." 

The man seems slightly overwhelmed but reads through quickly and then signs once he seems satisfied. 

Harry takes the pen once he's done and signs all of his signs, and then tucks it into the filing cabinet underneath the counter, along with all of the other forms just like it. The blood test is in the next drawer over, so he stays crouched down to put it out. 

"Okay!" He says cheerfully as he pops back up. "You'll need to let five drops of blood fall onto the paper. No less, though you can let more. The more drops the further back we can see so then we'll be able to see exactly how susceptible you are." 

Harry watches carefully as the man does as he's told, to make sure he puts enough blood. 

He does, and then suddenly, the lines are appearing. 

It's fascinating to Harry, and he feels kind of attached to these tests. Severus refuses to make them anymore, so he makes Harry do them all. They're honestly not that bad, so he doesn't say no. 

The lines show ancestors that had addiction problems. In this family's case, there aren't many, just distant relatives. Looks like all Blacks and Parkinsons. 

On the other side, there's a gene test that shows inherited traits from past family members that are supposed to be able to show how likely the addiction gene is to be inherited as well. 

"And-" he drags out the vowel, "-it looks like it's zero percent!" 

The man absolutely beams back, and Harry then knows how important this potion must be to him. 

"Wonderful!" The man says back. 

Harry can't help the small smile that takes over his face. 

"Good!" Harry says lamely. "Then I'll just need your contact information, mister..." He trails off, waiting for the man to respond. 

And, instead of with a name, he responds with "Straightforward, aren't we, Mr Potter?" 

His face grows warm, and Harry knows that he's blushing. 

"Sorry, sir, but it's needed so that we can contact you once your order is finished." 

The man smiles at him. "Oh, I know. I just didn't think you could forget me, Mr Potter." He sticks out his hand. "Perhaps we could be friends, a second chance? Malfoy, Draco Malfoy." 

Harry's face grows even warmer as he goes to shake it. "Sure. But I still need your contact information." 

~~🕯~~


End file.
